


Once Dawn Arrives

by cazrhys



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Pre-Canon, Slavery, the war - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:20:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28427694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cazrhys/pseuds/cazrhys
Summary: once the war starts, you’re assumed to know something that could lead to the demise of the loyalists. upon being freed by the high lord’s son, you quickly meet rhysand
Relationships: Rhysand (ACoTaR) / Reader
Kudos: 4





	Once Dawn Arrives

Avery had freed you. The Heir to the Spring Court  _ freed  _ you from a lifetime of pain and suffering.  _ Run _ , He whispered, his long golden hair gleaming from the sun coming through the windows.  _ Before they catch you. Go north. Find Theo and he'll take you to a haven.  _ Then he broke the chains keeping you to the cold metal cot. That was hours ago and you were  _ sure _ they were coming after her now. You forced yourself to continue running, knowing it was the  _ only  _ chance you had. The  _ only  _ time you could get freedom.

The only problem was that you didn't know who Theo was. Or what lay North. The Summer Court and the Autumn Court but that was all you knew. Everything else was a mystery.

You were  _ something _ . Something mortal yet not quite. Magic thrummed through your veins, the magic you couldn't begin to understand how to control. Atticus, the current High Lord, wanted to use the magic for his gain. After you were attacked by one of his men, you killed him. Made him  _ explode _ . It took hours to clean the blood and gore.

Atticus had been so amused that he hadn't punished you  _ that  _ badly. The lashes on your back had healed within a week. You were sure that once he learned his  _ prized possession  _ tried to leave him, mercy wouldn't be shown.

Avery's lips ghosted on the shell of your ear, a devious look in his eyes. At first, you'd thought he came to do _ something else _ . Yet, he hadn't. Using his magic, he broke the chain curled around your ankle, preventing you from using what thrummed through your veins.

Tree branches snagged at your face, tearing at your soft flesh and the thin material covering you. You panted, hoping that you  _ were  _ going North.

Your heart pounded in your chest and you felt  _ alive.  _ While you weren't free yet, this was the most freedom you'd experienced in her life. The child of two slaves. From the moment you were conceived, she was condemned to a life of servitude.

The only time you'd felt like this was fifteen years ago when you and the youngest son of Atticus and Rosaline were playing in the rose gardens. Atticus hadn't been pleased but Rosaline insisted. "What's the harm?" She asked softly. You think that was the only time she'd spoken against him.

Atticus tensed, watching as his son  _ — his mongrel son — _ play with the mortal child. You had been beaten for that, too.

You knew the second you had stepped into new territory — the temperature dropped and the red leaves crunching beneath your feet, snapping alongside twigs. Your feet bled.

Y/n L/n only had three things.  _ One _ ; The only thing you had left of your parents, the name L/n.  _ Two _ ; the magic coursing through your veins, and  _ three _ ; hope for something  _ more _ .

Looking back, you missed and subsequently collided with a body. Both slamming onto the forest floor. He chuckled, short hair that was unmistakeably red even in the cover of night.

He stood quickly, moving gracefully in a way that only faeries possessed. You were  _ done  _ hiding. Of being afraid. You glowered at him, eyes trained on him. That didn't stop the way your throat threatened to close, weak knees, or the hammering in their chest.

He barked a laugh. "Y/n, I take it?"

Upon their hesitant nod of confirmation, he held out a hand, looking at you expectantly. You had no choice but to put your faith and trust in him. To hope that where he was taking you was better than the Spring Court.

" _ Y/N!"  _ A voice tore through the trees, nearly at the border. What, exactly, would Atticus risk to get you back? Atticus cared little for you but his pride wouldn't let him just  _ give up _ . Without thinking, Y/n took his hand. They stumbled upon landing, the rock wall enclosing them.

The room was nice though small. The bed sat in the center, the headboard pushing against the rock wall. On it sat a fur blanket, it's white tuff brighter than snow. A wooden wardrobe sat in the corner, a large metal bath with steaming water was in the corner.

"What is this place?" You asked. Theo's eyes twinkled. "Well, you'll have to wait and see, won't you? Get cleaned up, we have places to be." Theo glanced at you with his nose upturned, noticing your torn, sweaty and dirty clothing, hair that was knotted, and the cuts and bruises covering your skin.

" _ No _ ," They said quickly. "What are you doing here?"  _ Am I your slave? What is my purpose? _

As if he could read your mind, he said, "Enjoy your freedom while you have it. Cauldron knows how long you'll keep it,"

_ Free,  _ You thought, heart jumping the thought. All your life, freedom was a pipe dream.  _ You're free. _

_ Cauldron knows how long you'll keep it _ .

You vowed to do  _ anything  _ to keep it.

It was a gift to be able to read the stars. Marina, being only thirty, hadn't been able to master it quite yet. Her great-grandmother left a journal, detailing how the gift could drive one into insanity. Marina wasn't worried about it. Her great-grandmother hadn't had the gift herself. It was information she'd collected.

She was the daughter of the High Lord of the Night Court. She could do  _ anything. _

The gift was passed down through the generations, the first known person with the ability to read the stars wasn't even apart of her bloodline, Luna Starbringer married Anzo the Cruel. Since then, it mostly appeared in females and hadn't shown in the past four generations.

It hadn't made sense; each star told a story. If you read them incorrectly or out of order, you could damn everyone around you. Marina thinks that's what she'll do if she speaks the words. She knows the War won't end soon; they have years to go. Two are behind them and countless are ahead. She can sense victory — she's unable to tell for who.

Marina spent countless hours trying to figure it all out to no avail.

Her brother's name is among the stars. She fears for him. Suffering is the only thing she can see for him. One thing is clear; the next few years will not be easy for them.

Among the stars is  _ you _ , closely intertwined with Rhysand.  _ Suffering _ , she remembers. You will be the cause of it. Marina refuses to let it. You aren't the only one with him, however. Two others that she can't begin to read stay together close enough to Rhysand that it's clear they're connected.

The stars tell the past, present, and future. All Marina can do is learn to read them.

She walks through the cave, hair pulled back tightly in braids, her shoulders square. She doesn't spare anyone a second glance. She walks until the people become few and far between. In front of her is an oak door, a spell preventing anyone outside it from listening in.

She knocks three times before it swings open.

Theo Vanserra stands on the other side, his red hair curling around his ears. The youth is still written in his face. He gives a mocking bow, "Marina," He greets. It takes everything in her to not rip out this throat.

"Theo," She returns, pushing past him and entering the room.

"Lovely as always," He says. Marina's eyes scan the room, quickly finding they're the only two in it. "Where's the slave?" She asks. Theo shoves his hands into his pocket, "Bathing," Upon noticing her glare, he snaps, "They were just a slave. Let her take a bath before you send her to the slaughter,"

Marina's only problem with Theo is that he's a Vanserra; after what Eris did to Mor, Marina can hardly stand to look at him. Theo was only two during the incident, what happened wasn't his fault. Instead, she asks, sickeningly sweet, "How's Eris?"

Azriel wanted to kill him, so had Marina. They began plotting his death, how they were going to sneak into the Autumn Court, skin him, and put his head on a pike. Marina would've delighted in it. Rhys stopped them before they could, refusing to  _ allow  _ them to do it. For that, she'd fought him.

No one wouldn't  _ allow  _ Marina to do anything. The stars read that a High Lady of the Night Court would come soon — Marina couldn't imagine it being anyone but her.

Theo shrugs, a look of annoyance flashing through his russet eyes. "Alive. How's  _ Mor _ ?" He says cockily. Marina flashes her teeth in a sneer, "Watch yourself,  _ lordling _ ," She warns.

He cocks his head to the side, "I think you're forgetting which Court you're in,  _ my lady. _ Those winged bastards can't help you here,"

She raises a brow. "You pride yourself. A child could take you,"

"Is that so? Is that what the stars told you? Or had you read them wrong  _ again?"  _ He purred, taking a step towards her. The fire crackles in the fireplace, the flames pulsing as if they were alive.

"Shut  _ up _ ," She snaps.  _ Reading the stars is difficult _ , she reminds herself.  _ You're bound to make mistakes.  _ Marina's mistakes caused people to  _ die. _

Theo knew that.

He straightens the lapels of his clothes — finer than her own. He prided himself on always looking his best. Out of the four Vanserra children, he was the most appealing. Though had Beron had a better personality, she wouldn't be  _ opposed, _

"Are you sure they're the one we need?" Theo asks, his nose scrunching slightly. "They... seem delicate," Marina raises an eyebrow. "Tell me, Theo, can  _ you  _ make people explode with a mere glance, or is fire tricks all you can do?"

He sneers, reaching into his jacket to pull out a letter, he hands it to her. Her eyes skim the paper and from the corner of her eye, she can see Theo lean again the table. "High Lords are so possessive," He muses. "I think Y/n would go kicking and screaming before she returns to him,"

The letter is full of threats if they don't return the mortal. He hadn't used their name once, either referring to them as 'my slave' or 'the mortal'. Atticus is desperate, that was clear.

"They know something," Marina says. "This isn't entirely about their magic. Y/n must know something in that head of hers,"

"That's why they're here, aren't they?" Theo shrugs.

"I wonder how fast Rhysand could get here. I'll be so much easier—" Marina begins, speaking mostly to herself. They didn't have  _ time  _ to put the pieces together. Rhys could slither into their mind and know anything they knew.

According to Avery, they knew more than any slave should. "No," Theo snaps. "Avery says they cannot be harmed by us or we'll lose his aid,"

She folds the paper, holding it to herself as she crosses her arms. "How do we know they aren't a spy? Besides, Rhys wouldn't harm her. Not unless he  _ wanted _ to," Rhys didn't hurt defenseless girls. Though, you weren't exactly defenseless.

"Marina,  _ no, _ " Theo repeated. "You may think you're a goddess amongst men but you cannot do  _ anything  _ you want."

"I don't think I am, Theo. I know I am," She replies simply. Theo, deciding this conversation isn't going anywhere, says, "Before they left Avery put a spell on them — one they're entirely unaware of. Should the girl try to tell our secrets... well, let's say it won't be pretty,"

"She traded a silver cage for a golden one," Marina states.

"It appears so,"

Marina hadn't felt bad about what would happen to you.  _ One  _ mortal for the lives of  _ thousands _ ? After all, your death wasn't guaranteed. There was still a possibility you'd survive it. Once then, you'd have your freedom. All you had to do was  _ fight  _ for it.

Marina would make sure you would.

You narrow your eyes, staring intently at a glass of untouched water.  _ Work,  _ you pleaded.  _ Just work _ . It doesn't move, just sitting perfectly still. So unlike the head that  _ burst  _ like a tomato being squeezed. Like the pictures that flew from the walls, smashing themselves into smithereens.

Someone had brought clothes by for you, black pants and a grey sweater. You'd worn finer when Atticus dragged her from meeting to meeting, but they were  _ yours _ . That had made them better. It wasn't meant to show you off.

You hadn't trusted any of the faeries here — especially not Theo. He said you were free but you were locked in this room. You would  _ die _ before you let yourself be enslaved again. You wouldn't  _ ever _ let yourself be chained again. You weren't going to let herself be a faerie's pet, humiliated and abused—

The cup flung into the nearest wall, bursting into little shards. The water coats the walls, the floor, and some of it blots against your skin. It makes you flinch. You gaped at it, watching in awe at the water soaked into the carpet.

Nothing inside you felt different. You once heard faeries talk about how their magic thrummed in their veins, how it buzzed and they would know the second it was gone. You felt normal and anytime you'd used your magic, you hadn't felt any different. You felt  _ afraid  _ or  _ angry  _ all of the time but you'd never felt  _ powerful.  _ You weren't a force to be reckoned with.

You were just Y/n L/n. You were a slave.  _ No,  _ you reminded herself.  _ You're free _ . What did that mean, exactly? You'd been a slave since her first wail as you were ripped into this world.

A knock sounded on the wooden door then it opened, a red-haired male and a dark-haired female walking in. "Ah, Y/n. We have  _ very  _ important matters to discuss," He says, a grin spreading across his face. He turned to the girl, "This is Marina. She's very, very talented — wonderful at  _ reading,  _ I should mention,"

Marina glared at him, her violet eyes unnerved you, forever marking her as one of them. Theo hadn't flinched, only chuckling at his joke. Marina turned her attention back on you, eyes grazing you up and down. You bristled, asking, "Are you done?" Marina blinked, clicking her tongue, "I suppose you were never taught any manners?"

You glared back, crossing your arms over your chest. You wouldn't show how uncomfortable you were. Marina wasn't  _ anything  _ to be afraid of. They freed you for a reason, they weren't going to kill you. "Suppose not," Marina mutters.

"We should get ready to go," Theo interjects smoothly, moving between you and Marina. "Where?" You asked.

Marina's voice is confident. The way she holds herself is confident — as if she knows she has nothing to fear. She could take everything and rule over it if she wanted to. "You know things that could help us win the war. I presume you  _ do  _ know we're in the middle of a war, yes?" Marina talked to you like she would a small child. Your face burned.

Truly, you hadn't been entirely aware of this. You knew something was happening. Within the last two years, Atticus hadn't taken you to most of his meetings. You knew enough to know that discord was brewing in Prythian.

Your face must've said it all.

"Cauldron forbid Avery does something  _ useful  _ for once," Marina muttered to herself. You opened her mouth to defend him. After risking himself to free her, you owed him it. Marina, sensing it, stopped you in your tracks. "Freeing you isn't doing shit unless it can help us,"

"What is the point of you fighting in this  _ war  _ if you don't give a shit about what happens to mortals?" You ask.

"I just don't give a shit about what happens to  _ you _ ," Marina says. You blinked once, "The feeling is mutual," You don't know what you'd done to earn this level of hostility but you weren't going to take it sitting down. Not anymore. Not now that you were free. Your eyes flickered to the shattered up glass, the shards reflecting the light of the torches on the wall.

Would you be able to get it before  _ either  _ of them reached you? You'd just gotten her freedom, you weren't going to do anything to lose it. If Marina or Theo thought of taking that away from you, you'd bring this entire cave crumbling down.

Marina looks up at the ceiling, muttering a few words before looking at her. "Forgive me if I've been less than welcoming. Fighting in a war does that," She says. Her eyes fall to the bare skin of your wrist, the white scar encircling it from where the chains dug into your flesh, over and over until a permanent reminder remained.

Likewise, you find the white scars rounding over Marina's shoulders, peaking out through her black, lace top. Your eyes soften: as a slave, you were treated less than. As a female slave, you were treated as a trophy, ready to be discarded once you lost her shine. You'd seen the way Atticus had cared for Roseline: as an extension of himself, not as her own person, who held their own beliefs, joys, and hobbies as something outside of him.

Marina and you make eye contact, purple eyes peering into your ones and they come to a conclusion: they will not fight each other unless necessary. They have enough enemies among themselves.

"Okay," You said slowly, eyes landing onto Theo. "What now?"

Theo raises an eyebrow, eyes dancing between the two, "That's it? You're done arguing?" Marina rolls her eyes, lip pulling into a sneer. "I have plenty of fighting to do. Why would I waste my energy on a mousy thing?"

You scoffed. That was the nicest insult you'd been given.

Theo smiles smugly at you. "Y/n, dear, as  _ fun _ as this whole ordeal is," He says, cockiness engaging his tone. "The fun hasn't begun. Which is why we need you — you know things about the Spring Court that no one, not ever our lad Avery, knows." He taps his temple. "You might not think they're significant but I can assure you, they are,"

Marina opens her mouth, Theo giving her a pointed look. "As I've said earlier, we are not bringing Rhysand into this," Marina glances at her, seeing if she picked up on the name  _ Rhysand _ . "We should give them a choice, should we not? After all, she is  _ free _ now,"

You felt as though she was being played somehow. Marina was baiting you. "No, no, no," Theo says. "We aren't breaking her. My father won't like it," Marina shakes her head softly. "Cauldron, Theo. I don't give a shit about what Beron thinks!"

"Because you don't live with him. He doesn't even want me anywhere near the war. Lyall and Eris are locked away, as is my mother. If I let the human be broken, I'll be shoved away from the rest of the war," He complained.

It irked you. Theo, as much as he tried to imply, didn't care about what would happen to you. He cared about impressing Beron. You knew how faeries were; they liked giving the mortals hope for something then snatching it away. You knew all about that: Atticus used to have a maze, lined with hundreds of flowers, the walls so thick you couldn't see thought. So tall you couldn't climb over.

He and his friends would drag a group of slaves to the center, making sure they didn't know the way. "If you find your way out in ten minutes, you're all free to go," He promised, the chipper tone of his voice proving he had something else planned. "If  _ not,"  _ He would say before loading a crossbow. "You better  _ run _ ,"

It all depended on how well the sentries liked you. If they liked you, they would lead you out of the maze, injured but alive. If they tolerated you, you'd be given a quick death. If not, well, the screams that echoed from the maze haunted you. You'd never been dragged in. You were glad about that.

Three years back, a few slaves had enough. They torched the entire maze, the fire burning the thing to ashes.

"Who's Rhysand?" You asked quietly. You shifted on your feet, fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt. You tried to be brave, you did, but you couldn't help the anxiety that spiked from being around faeries or the mention of meeting new ones.

Marina and Theo gestured at each other until Marina relented. "My brother," She gave Theo a forced smile. "Who shall remain a last resort,"

"Thank you," Theo muttered. "Now, we think it's best to send you to another camp. Atticus didn't take kindly to us stealing you,"

"You didn't steal me," You said quickly. That would imply they now owned you. "That's what I said! He doesn't think so, however,"

"Where will we be going?"

"You won't be much use to us until you can control what's inside of you," Marina explains. "You'll be going back with me. To the Night Court. There, we'll spend time going through what you know and what you don't," Marina explained.

"What if I don't want to?" You questioned. You didn't like feeling like a rag doll.

"Do you want to risk going back to the Spring Court? Back to Atticus? I don't know about you but I certainly wouldn't. Just  _ imagine  _ the pain he's going to put you through," Marina clicks her tongue, shuttering. "I wouldn't want to be you in a million years,"

Weighing your options, knowing Atticus would put you through your own personal hell. Atticus would rather kill you than let her  _ ever  _ walk free. "When do we leave?"

Marina and Theo share a knowing smile.

"Where are we?" You asked upon landing. The feeling made your stomach lurch and your head fuzzy. "An Illyrian war camp," Marina explained. You looked around, seeing nothing but an endless line of trees. "We can't risk you being taken back by Atticus," Marina says, leading her through the trees expertly. "Why? What exactly do you think I know?"

You weren't exactly educated. You could read basic words and  _ sound  _ educated, strictly because Atticus liked that, but if you laid a book in front of you, she might only know a little over half of the words on the page. Not that you'd ever admit that — not to someone who looked at you like dirt on the bottom of their shoe.

You wrapped the jacket around you tightly, the chill making bumps appear on your arms. "Well, if Avery is correct, you know more than you think you do — something that'll help us in the war. If not, you  _ can  _ make people explode," Marina shrugged.

You chewed on the inside of your lip, guilt or shame making your face flush, "My... magic isn't something I can control, you know. The only times I've used it were when I panicked,"

A sudden gust of wind tousled your hair. You spent her entire life in Spring, this weather was unaccustomed and unwelcomed. "I don't think Atticus would go through the effort to get me back. It's not like we were together. I was just something pretty." You feel as though a weight has been lifted. Being so far away from Spring — from  _ slavery  _ was freeing. So, as much as you hated it, helping secure your freedom was the least you could do.

If telling them something about the Spring Court helped, you would bite her tongue and answer their questions. You had your own questions. Namely, what the fuck was an Illyrian? You weren't going to ask that.

"My family has a house here. You'll be staying until I come to get you," Marina says as they break from the trees, a camp full of cabins. You shoved down any feelings about her hardly paying you a second glance, eyes ahead as she clicked her tongue for you to pick up your pace. You kept your head down, trying not to gawk at the males that walked throughout the camp, large wings on their back. It made you want to retch in the snow. You forced your breathing to even out.  _ I am not weak _ , you repeated.  _ I will now cower _ . You told yourself that hundreds of times as you knelt at Atticus' feet, the clothing he forced you into little more than nothing. It was  _ humiliating.  _

The years you had spent in slavery did not go away because you’d been freed. The habits and manners you’d developed didn’t stop. You pulled the jacket tighter around her, shivering at the weather. “No one should bother you,” Marina explained, sighing heavily. “Though, you should probably stay in the cabin, practice your magic—“ You cut Marina off, forcing your voice steady. “You’re leaving?” You hadn’t wanted her to stay. Not particularly. She, possibly, was one of the most infuriating people you had met in months. You’d been ripped away from the only home you’d ever known, even if you were grateful to leave. Mouth drying, you asked, “What—what if something happens?” I can protect myself. I am no longer property. 

“The cabin has wards, human. No harm should come to you. Had you forgotten, we’re in a war. I cannot stay to watch you,” Marina smiled, forcing you to grit your teeth. “No one should be here. Not any time soon,” As a child, you had dreamed of freedom. You hadn’t thought it would be like this. 

This wasn’t just for you, though. It was for every human out there. Those put at the mercy of the sick and twisted, beaten and tortured each day. Discomfort was worth what was to come. If you had to, you’d torch the entire Spring Court if it meant they were freed. You nodded after a moment, biting your lip. Solemnly, you asked, “Do you think this will work? That the War will be won?” Marina slowed her steps — not enough for you to notice. Her limbs were still longer than your own — placing her hands on her hips, she raised a brow. “Not for lack of effort. We have enough allies. Strategies are the most important thing. You and what you know could be important. You know how to read and write, yes?” Marina asked. You returned your gaze to the ground. “Not enough to be of use,” 

Marina looked up at the sky. “Cauldron,” She hissed. You glared at her, ignoring that at the Spring Court, you would’ve been beaten for such things. At the Spring Court, you would’ve lost your eyes for doing such things to nobility. “Apologies if my slavery is inconvenient to you,” Atticus had often mocked you for it, cooing, It’s a wonderful thing you have a decent body. Your thoughts won’t get you anywhere. 

Marina’s mouth twitched. “I can send a tutor. I was going to have you write down what took place during the meetings. Anything you can remember. Even if you think it’s unimportant, it could mean everything,” You glanced at the males in the ring, topless in the cold. That alone nearly made you cringe. “How aren’t they freezing?” Marina chuckled. “This is summer, darling. Besides, they’ve lived here their entire life. They’re used to the cold,” 

The Illyrian mountains were gloomy, far from the beautiful spring you’d spent every day in. Forcing back the creeping sadness, you forced a smile. The gloom was worth your freedom. Marina led you up the stairs. Opening the door, she blinked several times. “Rhysand,” She says, closing the door behind you. You blinked from her and the male, who only raised his eyebrows. “I told you I was visiting,” 

“I was hoping you’d be gone by now,” Marina stated, running her hand through her black hair. She murmured something to Rhysand, the two talking in hushed voices. You didn’t bother trying to listen in, only glancing around the cabin. Slowly, the chill left your bones. You looked at Rhysand — the Rhysand that Theo hadn’t wanted you around. Marina jerked her chin toward you, “Well, you need to leave. Y/n is staying here,” You shifted on your feet. Cauldron, you wanted to sleep. You were exhausted. “The stars—“ Marina began. Rhysand cut her off. “It’s always the stars, isn’t it? I’m sure I can handle them. Go to father before he pays us a visit. It won’t be kind, I’m certain,” Marina didn’t pay you a second glance as she left you with Rhysand, glaring at you with a thousand daggers before she left. 

_ Don’t try anything _ , she seemed to say _. I will tear you apart myself.  _

Rhysand leaned against the wall. "It's you and I, I suppose,"

The next few days had been spent sleeping. You couldn't remember a time you'd gotten more than three hours at a time, constantly woken by screaming and faeries that loved to torment the slaves. On the fourth day, you woke to someone knocking on the bedroom door, entering after a moment. "You're alive? Wonderful," Rhysand's violet eyes, so different from Marina's, shone with mischief. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, wrapping the blanket around you as you sat up. "Did you need something?" You asked softly. Sleep hadn't been peaceful. It was full of people both alive and dead that you'd left behind. "As your tutor, I figured it was time to get started," 

You blinked at him, "My  _ what _ ?" It was bad enough you were living with him, you didn't want to spend all your time with him. Rhys smiled at you, "Magic," Rhys wagged his fingers. "What else would you need a tutor for?" Clenching your jaw, "Can't you just leave me alone?" 

"No." 

Part of you was  _ terrified _ to leave your bed. If this was all some cruel mind trick created by Atticus, you wouldn't be able to survive it. You  _ couldn't  _ survive it. You ripped the blankets off, standing before Rhys decided to drag you out of the bed. The part of yourself that  _ desperately  _ wanted to distance itself from everything that had happened fought back, wanting you to spit at him, call him the foulest insults. “I’m going to bathe first,” You stated, narrowing your eyes at him. You wanted to see if he would object, like Atticus. “Go ahead,” Rhysand replied, folding his arms behind his back. “I’ll be downstairs,” He closed the door behind him. 

For several moments, you looked at the door, ignoring the void filling your chest. It wasn’t simply  _ nothing _ . It was anger, years of fear and resentment building up.  _ No  _ High Fae would treat any human decently. Rhysand, an  _ heir _ , wouldn’t be any different. Being in the same house as him made you  _ sick _ . You cursed Marina. She would’ve been better company than Rhysand. Marina would’ve insulated you, made you feel small. You would’ve welcomed it. You would’ve known what to expect from her. With Rhysand, his fake smiles, soft words before he hurt you… 

You  _ hated  _ him and his kind. The bath lasted an hour. Momentarily, for a  _ second _ , no longer than that, you considered sinking to the bottom of the tub, inhaling until the water filled your lungs and you wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore. 

You hated yourself for thinking it. For thinking that death was better than freedom. It wasn’t. 

You hated yourself for being so  _ ungrateful _ . You had been granted something no one from the Spring Court had ever gotten. Any slaves that tried to escape had been briskly hunted down. Depending on their status, they  _ might  _ survive what was dished out for them. Finally, you walked downstairs, Rhysand sitting at the table. He didn’t pay you a second glance. 

“You should eat,” He glanced at you. “You haven’t in days,” You didn’t move. You forced your breathing to even out. “Why should that matter?” You’d certainly gone longer without eating. Sometimes, they had forgotten to feed those locked in a room below the manor. “You’re useful—” Rhysand began. Your nostrils flared. “I get it. Every conversation I’ve had in the last week heavily featured my usefulness, what I’m expected to do. If you’re going to do that, too, I’d rather spend the rest of my time until it comes in the room I’ve been given,” 

_ It’s not your room. Nothing belongs to you _ . 

“I hadn’t meant it like that,” Rhysand says. He runs a hand over his face. He looks exhausted. “You need to eat. Marina would  _ kill  _ me if I let anything happen to you,”  _ Lie _ , you thought. Marina didn’t  _ care  _ what happened to you. Rather than argue, you sat across from him, picked up a piece of toast and slowly ate it. You were both silent for a moment, before you asked, “Why don’t you have wings?” 

A small smile quirked Rhysand’s lips before they appeared. “I do. I choose to keep them hidden, however,” You nodded, sipping from a glass of water. You eyed them, not warily, before you grabbed another slice. They were beautiful. “Are they hard to get used to?” You cursed yourself once you said it. Rhysand placed meat on your plate, filling your glass. “You need more than bread,” He clarified. “But I’ve had them since birth. I wouldn’t know what I would do without them,” 

“Does Marina have them?” You knew she was magically gifted but you weren’t sure about wings. “Yes. The way High Fae bastards view Illyrians — it’s better if they think we don’t have them,” You could understand that. Rhysand continued, “You’re safe here, Y/n. I mean it. Not a soul outside of this Court knows the landscape of the Night Court. Illyria is the last place they’d look for you,” Your throat tightened at the soft tone he was using. No one had been that  _ kind  _ to you in years. 

“This is a cruel joke, Rhysand—”

“Rhys. My friends call me Rhys,” He interrupted, flashing you a smile. “We can  _ hardly  _ be considered friends,” You shook your head. “Sure we can. I’m not joking, Y/n. I’d be your friend — if you’d have me,” You stared at him, the subtle shading of blue in his eyes, the raven hair, and the wings that opened behind him. “I’ll consider,” You stated, smiling to yourself. You felt yourself soften. You  _ knew  _ this was a bad idea but you couldn't help it. Fuck, you'd spent the last twenty-some years being treated  _ cruelly _ . Now, here someone was — the very kind that you desperately wanted the approval of — _ offering  _ kindness. 

“Good, now let’s begin training,” Rhysand says. 

Hours later, you find yourself in an empty field, surrounded by nothing but trees and grey sky. “It never works,” You say. “They refused to let me use magic for years. I couldn’t begin to grasp it,” 

“That’s your first problem,” Rhysand says. “You think you can’t do it. You’re tricking yourself out of it. When was the last time you used it?” 

“A few days before I came. A glass shattered when it was thrown. Rhysand picks up a rock, walking over to you and standing behind you. “Can I touch you?” He asked. You stared at him for a moment before nodding. He  _ was  _ your friend, after all. You didn’t think he would hurt you. Rhysand’s chest pressed to your back, one arm wrapping around your middle. You tensed for a moment before forcing your body to relax. Rhysand put your hand under his, the rock sitting in his palm. “Close your eyes. Imagine you’re lifting it,” You closed your eyes, shivering — hoping he thought it was from the cold — when you felt his lips against the shell of your ear. 

“Imagine your fingers curling around the rock, the shape of it. Imagine  _ lifting  _ it,” Rhysand ordered, continuing. You couldn’t  _ feel  _ the rock as it was in his palm. You imagined his warmth seeping into you, realizing that this was what safety felt like. With Marina and Theo, you expected them to lash out often. With Rhysand, against your better judgment, you trusted him. Your eyes flickered open when Rhysand chuckled. 

The rock was floating in the air. “Are you helping?” You asked. Rhys shook his head, “No. It’s all you,” You felt joy blossom in your chest, laughing. “I’ve never done it on my own before,” You deflated when the rock fell back to his palm.

Rhysand’s hand squeezed your hip. “It’s better than I hoped for,” When Rhysand pulled away, moving away from you, you felt increasingly bare. You sighed, missing the way Rhysand had smirked to himself. “Try again — without me, this time,” Rhysand held the rock in his hand. You imagined your fingers curling around the rock, the dirt from it leaving behind stains of dirt. You imagined yourself squeezing it, unable to break the hard surface. You imagined throwing it in the air—

“Okay, okay,” Rhysand said, eyes wide as the rock was floating in the air — higher than the trees. “Nearly took my eye out but good,” You felt your face flush at his praise. You looked down at your feet. “Nothing to worry about, of course,” He added quickly as if he was afraid he said something wrong. 

Slowly, the weeks had dragged on. Most days, Rhysand spent them with you. You’d be  _ lying  _ if you said you hated it. Slowly, the magic you once feared began to flourish. When summer had turned to autumn, Marina returned. You and Rhysand had been eating, you laughing loudly. 

She walked into the house, taking one look at you and Rhysand before she said, “I hope you learned something. We need to go,” 

“Go where?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing. Marina, eyes becoming haunted, said, “Battle,” 


End file.
